


Something Lost, Something Gained

by thelookyouredoingthelookagain



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: AU-First Meeting, Explicit Sexual Content, First Meeting, Flirting Via Texts, Lost Wallet, M/M, PWP, Sherlock Behaves In A Very Silly Manner, Sherlock Flirts, World's Easiest Case
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-26
Updated: 2014-09-26
Packaged: 2018-02-10 18:21:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2035293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelookyouredoingthelookagain/pseuds/thelookyouredoingthelookagain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John and Sherlock don't need Mike to bring them together for the first time. All it takes is a lost wallet and a very flirty Sherlock Holmes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Something Lost

**Author's Note:**

> All works here were produced by two friends in the fandom. One writes as SH and one as John, and we edit together. Our characters are based on the BBC's _Sherlock_ , though we don't mind playing a little loosely with canon and the occasional AU. We have whims and like to follow them. While we like to torture our boys with constant misunderstandings, we know they belong together and we always see to that.
> 
> All posted works are complete, and we hope there will be something for everyone. Please take a look at our other works. Just a note, though, there's pretty much always going to be smut. Sometimes fluff, sometimes angst, but always smut. We can't help it: that's just the way we are.
> 
> We plan to add new work each weekend, so please subscribe. 
> 
> We also really appreciate the kudos and comments --they mean so much. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!

John was retracing his steps in front of the park, his eyes fixed and scanning the pavement. He had his wallet when he'd gone into the movies because he had paid for the movie tickets. And then they had walked to the restaurant and now it was gone. His date, upset that she had to pay for the meal, had ditched him. Not that John minded anyways, she had been terrible company from the time he picked her up and he was glad to be rid of her. 

He stopped and looked up at the sky with a heavy sigh, knowing this was useless. Who was going to see a wallet and just leave it on the ground? And turning it into the police? They'd laugh at him if he went to ask for it. He sighed and looked forward again, giving up and starting his way back home.  

Sherlock walked home from the hospital. The air was cool and felt good -- it smelled clean, well, not clean exactly, but at least it didn't smell like the air in the lab. He walked past the park where the trees were just starting to bloom and he realised that he felt well. He had a good but long day with Molly at the hospital; he felt like he had been productive.

In the next step his foot caught something, and he stopped and bent to examine it. It was a wallet. He looked around but didn't see anyone there who might have recently dropped it. He opened the wallet and took the cash out and put it in his pocket. He skimmed through it, but it was too dark to see so he slipped it into his coat and headed home.

Upstairs in his flat, Sherlock emptied the wallet of its remaining contents. A debit card with the name John Watson. "So John Watson is the idiot who lost his wallet," he said to the skull on his mantel. There was an Oyster card and no driving license (obviously lived in London). There was ticket stub for a museum visit from months ago. "Our idiot is sentimental," he said. That was it. "And boring," he added. He stuck his finger into a small hole in the seam of the wallet and felt paper. "Aha, a secret -- perhaps not boring," he said as he wiggled his finger to pull out the paper. It was the corner of a mobile phone bill with the number highlighted. "No," he said, "I was right -- boring and apparently forgetful."

He walked away from the table and made himself a cup of tea. He sat back down at the table and fiddled with the wallet. He stuffed the few things back into the wallet, all except the corner of the bill. He got out his phone and sent a text.

_I have your wallet, John Watson._

John was just walking into his little flat when he felt his phone buzzing. He ignored it while he hung his coat and went to make a cup of tea, sure that his date was getting back to him for round two of how disappointing he was. Eventually, he did have to get it out to call the bank and cancel his card. He stared at the unknown number for a moment and then at the message even longer.

_Who is this? -JW_

He didn't know what else to say. He doubted this person was going to send it back. He was sure they were going to have their fun with John and leave it at that. He shouldn't have even answered it now that he thought about it.

_Your hero. Obviously._

Sherlock smiled. He liked when he found himself funny.

John raised his brows and blinked at the message.

_I'm assuming you stole my money so not so much. -JW_

_How dare you? I'm just a concerned citizen. Can I ask why you are so naturally aggressive towards someone who is trying to help you?_

_Are you telling me you didn't pocket the money? -JW_

_Were you picked on in school then?_

_What does that have to do with anything? -JW_

_I'm just trying to figure out your aggression. I'm worried about you. I care._

_I am not being aggressive. I am being reasonable. -JW_

_Fine. Do you want this back or what?_

_Yes, I would like it back. Preferably with all of my money in it. -JW  
_

_Fine. Is your address still the one on Sherwood Street? I could bring it round tomorrow. With the money. Obviously._

_No offense but I would rather we met somewhere public -- you could be a maniac for all I know. -JW_

_Fair point. Hold on. How do I know this is the right John Watson? I wouldn't want to give all this money to an imposter. When's your birthday? (Mine is 6 Jan.)_

_July 7th_ _. And you'll recognize me from my ID. -JW_

_And your mother's maiden name?  
_

_I'm not telling you. That's used for password security and you have my bank card. -JW_

_Clever. You should trust more, John Watson._

_You have to earn trust and right now you're stealing my money and possibly trying to steal more. -JW_

_I didn't have to contact you, you know. I'm just trying to do a good deed. It's not my fault your date didn't work out._

John's mouth fell open at that.

_Very funny, Mary. Look, you didn't have to sabotage the date if you didn't want to see me again. I wasn't going to call you back anyways. Keep the damn money for dinner. -JW_

_My name's not Mary. But she doesn't sound right for you anyway so I wouldn't worry yourself over her. Where's the public place you wanted to meet? At the Chinese below your flat?_

A small stab of panic went through him before he remembered the information this person had from his wallet.

_How did you know about the date? -JW_

_Lucky guess. So noon tomorrow, yes?  
_

John tried to catch up, remembering his suggesting the place downstairs.

_Yes, okay. -JW  
_

_Fine. Look, I did take the money and now I feel bad. I figured since I was feeling so lucky, I'd use it to place a bet. You know, found money and all. If we win, I'll treat for lunch._

John actually smiled and then caught himself, looking around as of someone saw him smiling at a phone.

_What are you betting on? -JW_

_Horses? football? I don't know. I just went into the bookies, slapped your money on the counter and said, Put it all on red to win. Fingers crossed._

_What? That doesn't make sense. -JW_

_Well, they took the money so we'll see. Good night, John Watson. I shall see you tomorrow._

_Of course they took the money! Um, okay. See you tomorrow. -JW_

John sent the message and finished off his tea before going to get ready for bed. He actually felt a bit nervous about meeting. John looked at the message again. As he got into bed he felt bad for being so mean.

After saying good night, Sherlock got a glass of water and made his way into bed, bringing the wallet with him for some reason. When his phone went again, he added John's name to his contacts and turned off the light. He lay in bed, thinking but after a little while, he couldn't remember what he was thinking about. Yet he felt like his mind was still going. He turned his light back on and looked at the ID in the wallet again. Handsome. He picked up his phone.

_Hi John. This is your wallet. I miss you. I want to come home._

Sherlock hit Send and smiled. He had no idea why he was doing what he was doing but for some reason, he was enjoying it.

John grabbed the phone a bit too quickly, trying not to think about that as he opened the message. He saved the number and chuckled.

_I know but the mean man has you hostage. -JW_

_He's not mean, just unusual. Perhaps in a way that you'd find attractive._

John bit his lip at the message. He'd always liked boys and girls, but hadn't dated a man in a while. He knew flirting would be risky because really he had no idea who he was dealing with, but maybe a little bit wouldn't be bad.  

_That sounds like our meet-up tomorrow is turning into a blind date. -JW_

_I hope it goes better than tonight's did. I didn't like her. That's why I ran off._

_I suppose I don't blame you -- she was awful. Tell me more about who you're with now. -JW_

_He's looked at your ID picture more than once._

Sherlock still didn't really know what he was doing, but he was pretty sure it was close to flirting. He didn't know anything about this guy at all except that he found his face appealing, which was admittedly rather unusual. John's date had obviously been with a woman; still he seemed to be almost flirting back, despite knowing nothing about Sherlock. _  
_

_Don't show him that one -- it's awful. Show him the one from Harry's wedding. -JW_

John felt a bit silly pretending to talk to his wallet but he couldn't help grinning. There was a photo of him and Harry tucked into the hidden pocket on the right of the wallet.

Yes, John was definitely flirting with Sherlock, who had started the flirting in the first place. He dug around the wallet a little more. There was a picture of John -- he was right, he was even more handsome in this one -- standing next to a woman about his size.  
  
_Is that your wife? Does she know about Mary? Does everyone you know have a name that rhymes?  
_

_That's my sister and her name is Harriet -- she just prefers Harry. And if she was my wife that would have to make me a woman. -JW_

Sherlock thought for a few minutes. Then he realised what John was saying. At least that meant he was open-minded -- he doubted John would have attended a lesbian wedding if he were a homophobe. Hmmm . . . Sherlock thought. Why not press his luck a little?

_You were right. You are even more handsome in this photograph. SH_

John felt his stomach flip happily and he grinned wider. A compliment and initials.

_Thanks. I wish I had your wallet to snoop through for pictures and the like. -JW  
_

_There's nothing of interest in my wallet. Except the betting stub obviously. Why aren't you asleep yet? SH_

_Because I'm involved in a lovely little chat. Will you send me a picture? -JW_

_Absolutely not. SH_

_Oh. Why not? You have my photo -- and I shared one. -JW_

_So you're the fair-minded type, eh? That's slightly irritating. But I don't want to argue with you. SH_

Sherlock lifted the phone and then held up the wallet so it completely obscured his face before he took the photo. He sent it to John's number with the message _We're having fun without you_.

_Happy now? SH_

_That's not fair. JW_

_Please? JW_

_You'll see me tomorrow. If I don't pass your test, you can take the money and run. SH_

_There's no test. I was simply curious. -JW_

_Stay curious. That's a good feature in a person. SH_

_I knew you were a mean one. -JW_

_Your wallet is not complaining. It seems to enjoy my company. In fact, I think it'd prefer to stay here with me. SH_

_You already took all of my money, you might as well keep that too. -JW_

_I'm hurt that you don't trust me. You're the mean one. SH_

_You admitted to taking my money. But I am only teasing because you're being mean. -JW_

_I invested your money. That's different. Let's not be mean. SH_

_You started it. -JW_

_Not really. After all, I did a good deed, trying to return your wallet. And I invited you to lunch. Those are both quite sweet, don't you think? SH_

_Can I get a picture if I let you keep the wallet? -JW  
_

_That's not very sensible, John Watson. Maybe the reason I can't send a picture is because I'm actually a thirteen year old girl. Did you ever consider that? SH_

_Well then it was lovely speaking to you. Enjoy your winnings. -JW_

_Then again I might not be. I suppose you'll find out for sure tomorrow at noon. SH_

_I'm going to peek through the window and if you are, I'm afraid I'll have to run away. -JW_

_My name is Sherlock. I'm not a thirteen year old girl, John. I promise. SH_

_Prove it. -JW_

_Are you asking for an x-rated photo, John Watson? That's quite forward of you when we haven't even had our first date yet. SH_

_No! Just your face, goof. -JW_

_Stop thinking about my face. Are you a millionaire? Is that why you're more interested in my face than in your wallet? SH_

_I've already chalked up my wallet to being lost. You are still keeping my interest. -JW_

_Why? (You'll get your wallet back, I assure you.) SH_

_You're being interesting. -JW_

_Well, don't get your hopes up. SH_

_We'll see tomorrow. -JW_

_I'm looking forward to it. I'll swing by the bookies first. I hope I stay lucky. Good night, John Watson. SH_

_Good night, Sherlock. -JW_

John put the phone down but close to his pillow just in case Sherlock texted again. He closed his eyes and tried to fall asleep quickly. It was very difficult. He kept imagining a charming, flirty dinner with a faceless man. _  
_

Sherlock set his phone and the wallet on his bedside cabinet. He turned off his light. Today had been interesting but tonight was even more so. He hoped that John would be as interesting tomorrow. He closed his eyes and went to sleep.

John woke up the next morning a bit panicked that he'd missed something important. Then he realised he had plenty of time to get ready and he lay back down with a sigh. He checked his phone and saw there were no messages. He debated sending a good morning but thought it might be too much so he just went into the shower instead. 

Sherlock woke up. He saw the wallet next to his phone and worried about what he had done. Perhaps he had gone too far with his flirting? John had said he was interesting, but in truth, Sherlock knew that he tended to be more irritating to other people. What had he been thinking?

He got up from the bed and stretched. He went into the kitchen and made a cup of tea before showering. He got dressed and then put on his coat and scarf and headed out to the Chinese restaurant.

After John was showered, he took too long picking out an outfit, being very careful while he drank some tea. And then he made his way downstairs, peeking into the windows. The place was almost empty and the only people in there were a couple and an old woman. John looked around the street but even if Sherlock were there, he wouldn't know. He headed inside and got a table in the back, twirling his thumbs nervously as he watched the door. 

Sherlock headed over to John's neighbourhood. He passed by the restaurant once and glanced in. He saw John sitting at a table by himself. He was even more handsome in person -- he looked clean cut, smart and reasonable. The kind of person . . . who would find Sherlock irritating. He might have found Sherlock interesting when he was a mysterious person flirting via text -- but John definitely looked the kind of person who would find Sherlock's childish behaviour absolutely intolerable. He took a few deep breaths and tried to decide what to do.

Sherlock got out his phone and texted John's number.

_This does not appear to be our lucky day. We did not win at the bookies, perhaps we shouldn't risk lunch? I shall post your wallet to you (with money returned, of course). I apologise for the inconvenience. SH_

John felt his phone buzz and he pulled it out excitedly, looking around once more. He opened the message, and his stomach dropped unpleasantly. He frowned lightly, scolding himself for first getting so excited over meeting a stranger and then again for being disappointed. It took a lot of self control not to send something mean. 

_Okay. Thanks anyways. -JW_

He got up and went to the counter to place a to-go order since he'd been sitting there without ordering for so long. 

Sherlock stood outside and watched John get up and move to the counter. He checked his phone -- hmm. . . a bit disappointing but perhaps it was just proof that Sherlock was right that John was too sensible for him. He ducked his head quickly before remembering that John had no idea what he looked like so it seemed stupid to hide from him. He decided on Plan B. He waited outside the door of the restaurant for John to come out.

When John finally got his food he left and turned to the right, fishing into his pocket for his keys to go back upstairs. 

Sherlock walked up to John. "Are you John Watson? A man just gave me this to give to you," he said, handing John his wallet.

"Oh." John put his keys into his pocket to free up his hand, taking the wallet. "He blew all my money and ditched me but at least I got this back," he grumbled. He shoved it into his back pocket and got his keys out again. He looked back at the man, still standing there. "Thanks," he added.

"There's money in it -- he counted it in front of me and said you'd know how much was in there . . . you know, to let me know I couldn't take any of it," Sherlock said. "Anyway, sorry."

"Why are you sorry?" John asked, looking over at him again. He looked him up and down and couldn't help feeling that something odd was going on here. 

"I don't know," Sherlock said. "You seemed irritated, I guess."

"I am, yeah," John said. "But that's not your fault -- you don't have to be sorry." 

"I know I don't have to be," Sherlock said, "I just am. Anyway, sorry, I'll leave you alone." But he didn't walk away.

John smiled a bit awkwardly and turned to the door again when he noticed the man wasn't leaving. "Um . . . was there something else?"

"I don't think so," Sherlock said. "I mean, unless . . . you need any help carrying that stuff?" Sherlock once again had no idea what he was doing. He should just be walking away. But he wasn't.

John shook his head, his brows furrowed lightly. "It's just one bag and I literally live right here . . ." he said slowly. 

"That chap a friend of yours then -- the one who gave me the wallet?" Sherlock asked.

"No," John shook his head. "I- he found it and we had a da- meeting, you know, so I could get it back but he cancelled." John finally unlocked the door and put the keys away. "I knew him just as much as I know you," he joked. 

"He seemed nice enough," Sherlock said, "I'm sorry you feel let down."

John shrugged. "He was a stranger. It was stupid to get my hopes up."

"What were you hoping for?" Sherlock asked, "like I said, the money's in there."

"I didn't care about that -- I thought he wanted to meet me. I guess I wanted to meet him," he said, shrugging again. 

"I'm sure you could do better than that guy," Sherlock said. "He seemed a bit childish. You seem more . . . sensible -- what are you a solicitor or doctor or something?"

"He seemed nice . . ." John said again. He didn't know why he was even explaining this -- he really had to stop talking to strangers. "Um, thanks again," he said as he moved into the flat now. 

"Right then, sorry, I hope your day gets better," Sherlock said. He reached out to shake John's hand, but then pulled his hand back and started to walk away. He waited until John got into the flat and took out his phone.

_You're a fast mover. Two strange men in 24 hours? SH_

_So you just stood outside and watched me? Great. -JW_

_Are you going to go out with him or isn't he your type? SH_

_Please stop. -JW_

Sherlock put his phone back into his pocket. He thought for a moment. The right thing to do would be to stop and walk away and leave this poor guy alone. But Sherlock did not always do the right thing.

_I'm sorry. I saw you through the window and you just looked like someone who would not find me as interesting in reality as you did last night and I didn't want to disappoint you. Or myself. I'm sorry. SH_

_Why didn't you just come in? I wanted to meet you. I wasn't lying when we were talking. -JW_

_Trust me, I'm more pleasant via text. I know it's not my business, but did you fancy the man who gave you the wallet? SH_

John thought about how strange it was that he was asking about that man over and over again. And then it hit him and he closed his eyes with a sigh. 

_I'm not going to play this with you. If you want to know what I think about you then you can go on a proper date with me instead of stalking me on the street in disguise. -JW_

Sherlock closed his eyes for a second to think. John had obviously figured him out: frustrating but at least he was clever.

_Fine. But if I'm right and I disappoint you, you'll owe me half the cash in your wallet. I'm standing outside your door right now. SH_


	2. Something Gained

John stuffed his phone and wallet into his pockets and went back downstairs, opening the door to find Sherlock on the sidewalk. He felt a wave of nerves suddenly and swallowed it back. "Hello," he said, closing the door behind him. 

"Hello," Sherlock said, smiling awkwardly. "Sherlock Holmes," he added, holding his hand out. 

John smiled back. "John Watson. Not as stuck up as you seem to think," he teased. He shook his hand marveling at how handsome Sherlock was. 

"It wasn't that. I don't know how I ended up charming you last night, but I don't know how you'll find me today," Sherlock said. "Do you want to get a drink or something?"

"Yeah, I do," John smiled. "Do you have a place in mind? We could walk there," he suggested. 

Sherlock looked around. "What about that restaurant on the corner? Or do you want to eat your Chinese food first?"

"I can have that later," John said, waving his hand. "Did you not send me a picture so you could trick me?" He smiled as he said it, hoping Sherlock could tell he was teasing.

"No, honestly. I'm a bit shy about things like that -- but I had intended to have lunch with you," Sherlock said, "but when I saw you, I got worried."

"Well, I'm really nervous so we're kind of in the same boat. Everything will be fine," he smiled.

Sherlock opened the door for John and they took a small table near the front. The server came over to take their order. "What would you like?" Sherlock asked. "Let me treat you."

"Tea with just a bit of milk, please." After the waiter left John smiled. "You have to treat. I'm only allowed to wait and be disappointed, right?"

"Same for me," Sherlock said to the server. Then he turned back to John. "Right. But don't lie just to save yourself some money." He fiddled with the salt and pepper shakers. "So what do you do?"

John grinned. "I'm a doctor. I don't know how you guessed -- I work over at the surgery part time. What about you?"

"Detective," Sherlock said. The server set down the tea and Sherlock took a sip of his. "Why part time?"

"I get money from the army so really it's just something to do, you know? I get bored at home. Detective sounds interesting," John smiled. 

"Sometimes," Sherlock said. "And you date men and women?"

"I am attracted to men and women, yes," John nodded. 

"And do you normally meet your dates via strange text messages?"

"No," John chuckled. "This is a double first," he said, taking a long sip. 

"What do you mean?"

"This is the first time I've met someone over texting. And the first time I've been on a date with a man in quite some time," he added casually, taking another drink. 

"Jesus, John," Sherlock said. "That's even more pressure now! I can't handle that." He took another sip of tea.

"Aren't you having a good time?" 

"Well, I've found the whole thing a little stressful, if I'm honest," Sherlock said. "I don't understand why I texted you like that and I don't understand why you were interested. It's all quite unusual."

"You seemed really confident on the phone -- there's nothing to be nervous about," John assured him. 

"I told you . . . I'm better via text," Sherlock said. "I don't know what came over me yesterday anyway. I'm not generally all that friendly. Your face is friendly."

John smiled. "I thought you were very charming and you're doing fine now," he said. "Please just relax."

"It's not dating that's stressful. It's just . . . other people. I don't have a very good reputation for acting normally. I find it hard to tolerate stupidity and it seems like a lot of people are quite stupid most of the time," Sherlock said. "Not you -- you don't seem stupid."

John chuckled. "Well, a lot of people are stupid most of the time," he agreed. "But now it's just us. We don't have to worry about other people."

"All right then," Sherlock said, smiling. "You're really handsome."

John flushed and looked down at his tea, swirling it awkwardly. "You are too," John said. "If we hadn't been texting, I don't know if I would have been able to approach you," he admitted. 

"Well, now that we're talking, do you feel like we're compatible?" Sherlock asked.

John nodded. "I feel very comfortable with you. I mean, I'm a bit nervous, first dates and all that, but not like the other times. It's nice."

"And do you feel like you fancy me?" Sherlock said.

"I know that I do," John smiled softly. 

"That's nice to hear," Sherlock said. "I fancy you as well. I think I was just surprised how much I did when I saw you through the window. I mean, your pictures . . . . but in person . . . even better."

"Stop," John murmured, embarrassed by the compliments. "Anyways, you're one to talk . . . you look like you just walked out of a bloody magazine..." 

"Hmmm . . . I'm not sure what magazines you've been reading," Sherlock reached over and held John's hand and stroked it softly. "Anyway, let's stop talking about my face." 

"But it's so lovely," John smiled, warming pleasantly at the contact. 

"Stop or I'll be forced to become unpleasant, and you'll be out almost forty quid," he smiled at John.

"You said I'd owe you half and I only had thirty five when I lost my wallet," John said. "How much did you put in there?" He pulled it out to check, ready to give it back. 

"Whatever," Sherlock said. "Fine. If my face is so fascinating to you, go ahead and talk about it as much as you want." He leaned his face over the table until it was right in front of John's. "Get a good look," he said and then he closed his eyes and pressed his mouth against John's and kissed him. Then he sat back properly in his chair and then said, "All right then," mainly because he didn't know what else to say.

"I missed it," John said. "I think you'll have to show me again." He scooted forward in his seat, his wallet on the table forgotten now as he tugged at Sherlock's hand to bring him closer again.  

Sherlock leaned forward and gave John another kiss, a little longer this time, and then he smiled genuinely before pulling back to sit properly. "Have you had enough of my face now?"

John closed his eyes and kissed back this time, sighing softly when he pulled away. "No," John smiled. "We'll need another date for sure."

"Okay," Sherlock said. "Does that mean this one's over?"

"No. Unless you've had enough of me for one day. I was just saying." John held Sherlock's hand again and smiled wider.

"I've not had enough," Sherlock said. He finished his tea. "What do you want to do now?"

"We can actually eat lunch, take a walk, or go see a movie," he suggested, taking a last sip of his own tea.

"I hate movies," Sherlock said. "But a walk might be nice." He stood up and took some money out of his wallet and left it on the table. "Let's go," he said, grabbing John's elbow and walking him out.

"Wait -- my wallet is still on the table," John said, hurrying back in to get it. He took the money out and offered all but thirty back to Sherlock. "I can't take all of this."

"Fine," Sherlock said, pushing the money back. "You pay for dinner later." He smiled and grasped John's hand as they walked.

John sighed and stuffed the money into his pocket. "Okay. But you really didn't have to do that -- it's a lot more." He looked down at their hands and smiled and he looked forward again. "I like that we have a second date already."

"Yes, you apparently are a fast mover," Sherlock said. "Anywhere particular you'd like to head or should we just keep walking until we fancy a bite to eat?"

"Let's keep walking -- we'll figure it out," John smiled.

As they walked Sherlock found it easier to speak a little more openly, without having to be on guard for every small look or sound of disapproval. They talked a bit about their pasts, about how they spent their days. 

John found it very easy to talk to Sherlock and the more they did so the more John liked him. He'd never met anyone like this before. As they fell quiet again, he told Sherlock as much.

Sherlock squeezed John's hand. "Yes, this is quite unusual for me, too," he said, looking forward. "When I chickened out earlier, I wasn't lying about the reason: I don't get on very well with other people normally. There really seems to be something different about you." He glanced over and smiled.

John smiled. "I'm glad we worked it out because I was really upset," he admitted.

"I didn't mean to upset you," Sherlock said, "I'm sorry about that. But I'm glad it worked out." He looked up. "Want to eat here? I know the man who runs it. Do you like Italian food?"

"I love Italian food," John smiled. "And I guess it's stupid now that I think about it because you saw my pictures but I thought . . .well, I thought you saw me through the window and changed your mind."

Sherlock led John in, calling hello to Angelo and then heading to the table in front. Once they had sat down, Sherlock leaned over and said, "Look, I thought you were handsome in your photos -- when I saw you in reality, you were even more handsome and I just couldn't see how you'd like someone like me. Honestly." He smiled.

"That's what I thought when I first saw _you_ ," John smiled. "Well, not the _first_ time because I didn't know that was you. But after."

"Well, clearly that's proof we were destined for each other," Sherlock said. Really? He was surprised by the words that kept coming out of his mouth. But he didn't seem to be able to stop thinking -- or saying -- them.

John chuckled. "Yes. Clearly fate stole my wallet and gave it to you." He paused to order his dinner and then grinned at Sherlock again. "I can buy that."

"After dinner, would you like to walk back to my place? It's not far from here -- we could have a cup of tea there or something," Sherlock said, fiddling with the salt and pepper shakers again.

"My place is closer, if you want to come there," John asked, smiling softly as he watched Sherlock fiddling. He had lovely hands -- long, slender fingers and big palms. "Do you play an instrument? Piano maybe?" 

"All right then," Sherlock said. "I don't play piano. I do sometimes play the violin. It helps me when I'm thinking."

"Oh," John smiled. "I could see that as well."

"I can be unpleasant when I'm thinking -- do you think that might be a problem for you? I mean, if you're ever around when I'm properly thinking about a case or something?" Sherlock asked. He glanced down at John's hands, which were also quite nice.

"I don't think so," John shrugged. "We'll have to wait and see -- I wouldn't leave you over something so silly." Their food came then and the owner placed a candle down between them. John raised his brows playfully. "Just how many men do you bring here?" he teased.

"No more than three a week -- maybe four," Sherlock said smiling.

"Oh, alright then," John laughed softly. "I try to limit my own dates to no more than 38 and a half." He grinned wider at his own joke. 

Sherlock laughed. "I don't even want to know about the half."

John laughed with him. "That only applies when the circus is in town," he said, dropping his gaze and mixing his food.

"I like you, John Watson," Sherlock said, looking up from his food and smiling at John genuinely.

John glanced up and smiled back. "Yes, I like you too, Sherlock."

"So far, you mean," Sherlock said and then said, "I'm glad you do." He went back to eating. They continued to chat, getting to know each other. Despite John being significantly less unusual than Sherlock, he really did like him. 

When they finished John sat back and sighed happily, putting the money on the table and standing. He held his hand out for Sherlock's and led him out of the restaurant. Losing his wallet had really been the best thing to happen to him. "I hope it's not too forward -- you coming over so soon. If you believe me, I don't usually invite girls -- or anyone -- inside after just one date." 

"Well, this is kind of our second date, even though it's just been one day," Sherlock said. "Is there anything that's going to shock me in your flat?"

"No," John chuckled. "I don't have a lot of things since coming home from the war."

"You do have furniture, though? A bed? I mean, we're not just walking into an empty flat, are we? That sounds a bit depressing, John," Sherlock said.

"I have furniture," he laughed. "And everything else is just boring. Ordinary."

"John, look, I'm quite clever and I've just spent most of the last twenty four hours thinking about you and what I've deduced is that, despite your traditionally handsome face, you are far from ordinary. The fact that you are even slightly interested in me is more than evidence that you are not ordinary. So . . . shut up about that, yeah?" he glanced over at John and smiled 

"I'm just trying to answer your question! Everything in my flat is simple and not even close to being alarming," he said laughing.

Sherlock stood behind John as he started to unlock his door. "Fine, fine, fine, let's just get up there and I'll see it for myself," he said and then, without even knowing why, he leaned down and around and gave John a kiss on the neck. 

John squirmed and bit his lip. "Sorry, I'm . . . that's ticklish," he finished lamely. Was it appropriate to tell Sherlock that his neck was so sensitive? He pushed open the door and led Sherlock upstairs.

Sherlock followed John upstairs. He took off his coat and scarf and had a look around.   
  
John took his coat off and also looked around nervously. It looked even barer showing it to someone. The walls very plain, there was only the one sofa and a small telly, and in the corner he had a small desk with his laptop on it. You could see into the kitchen and down the hall where his bedroom and bathroom were. "So. This is it. Are you alarmed?" 

Sherlock smiled and said, "No, but you're right -- it's quite bare. You should have a place that reflects you. I'm sorry, I don't mean to judge. The main thing is does this feel like home to you?"

"No," John admitted. "I haven't had a proper home since I left my mum's. Uni and then the war right after . . . it's all temporary. And here, well, I've not been here long."

"Well, I hope you can find a place that feels like home," he said. "My flat's a mess and my landlady's quite nosy, but at least it feels . . . right, I guess, I can think there, I mean." Sherlock sat down on the sofa. "Were we going to have a cup of tea?"

"I'll start the kettle now," John said, moving into the kitchen. "You can turn on the telly or do whatever," he called out. 

"No thanks," Sherlock said, trying to get a little more comfortable. "I'm enjoying the company. Do you need any help or anything?" Again, he kind of couldn't believe the things that were coming out of his mouth. Obviously John didn't need help making tea but more importantly, Sherlock couldn't remember ever asking if someone needed help getting tea. What was going on with him? 

"Does water boil faster if two people watch it?" John teased, leaning back on the counter. He peeked out at Sherlock on the sofa and smiled.  

"Possibly," Sherlock said. "Sorry, I wasn't sure what else to say."

"Please don't apologise," John said. "I was only teasing. I think it's cute that you're so nervous. It makes me feel better about my own nerves." He went back with the mugs and handed Sherlock his before sitting down beside him.  

"Thanks for the tea," Sherlock said. "I'm not sure I'm nervous really, it's just . . . I'm not usually like this so it's just . . . different." He took a sip of tea. "In a good way, I think."

"Oh. Well, I'm glad I am making you feel so many good things. And that you haven't run away yet," he grinned. He sipped at his tea and looked around before looking at Sherlock again, admiring him. 

Sherlock tried to hold John's gaze until he realised he was being admired, and he looked away. "When do you have to work again?" he asked.

"Monday," John said, looking down as well. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. I just . . . really like looking at you," he murmured. 

"Sorry," Sherlock said, looking back up. "I'm just not used to it, I guess." He smiled at John and then drank more tea.

"That's okay," John smiled, finishing off his tea. He took his mug into the kitchen and when he came back he sat a bit closer to Sherlock. 

Sherlock watched John get up and return. He moved a little closer, dropping his arm to John's shoulder. He used his other hand to turn John's head towards his and kissed him softly on the mouth and then sat back and said, "I hope you don't mind."

"No, it was nice," John said. He held Sherlock's gaze, glanced at his mouth, then leaned in and kissed him again. He brought his hand to Sherlock's cheek so he wouldn't move away. 

Sherlock's body felt warm as John kissed him back. He stayed with it, stayed kissing this man who was, in many ways, a complete stranger but was someone with whom Sherlock could feel so surprisingly comfortable. He lifted his own hand to John's head, got his fingers lost in his hair as he continued the kiss. 

John hummed and and brought his other hand to Sherlock's chest. He tasted nice and John felt warm and happy being so close with Sherlock.

Sherlock shifted his body a little closer, pressing his chest to John's as he dropped his arm around him and squeezed. He tried not to think, but he couldn't help it -- he was wondering what this all meant, what John would mean in his life.

John moved so they could face each other more comfortably. His hand slid down to Sherlock's waist, curling around to his lower back. His other had slid into Sherlock's hair, petting lightly.

Sherlock leaned back slightly pulling John with him. Both hands moved to John's back now. And then he heard his phone go in his coat pocket. He opened his eyes and stopped kissing, trying to think of what to do. "I'm sorry," he said, pushing John back until they were both sitting normally. "I should just check that."

_You're needed. GL_

"I'm sorry," Sherlock said, "I think our date's come to an end." He turned and looked at John. "Unless . . . do you want to come with me?"

"Is everything okay? Who is it?" John asked, already scooting to the edge of the sofa.

Sherlock was texting for the address. "It's a crime scene. Do you want to come with?"

"A crime scene?" John smiled. "Yes, definitely."

Sherlock smiled. "You surprise me, John Watson, but I like it," he said, standing up and reaching for his coat. "You might come in handy." He pulled John along with him and they headed out to a small grocers that was marked with crime scene tape. He lifted in for John to go under and walked to find Lestrade, scowling at Donovan as he passed her. 

John looked around nervously and hoped he wasn't going to be arrested for entering a crime scene. That woman they passed by looked like she really wanted to do it. He stuck close to Sherlock, looking around at everyone. 

Sherlock found Lestrade, who looked up and noticed John. "This is my colleague," Sherlock said in acknowledgement. He handed John some gloves and put a pair on himself, then turned back to let Lestrade explain.

He led them to the body, an older, fatter man lying on his back. There was blood around his head. Lestrade bent down and lifted the man's head slightly, "Obviously hit but we don't know by what. He was found by his wife." He looked up at Sherlock and added, "Nothing was taken, no forced entry. Something just seems . . . off."

"What's that smell?" Sherlock asked. He glanced over at John.

John was nervous about breathing too heavily and he was already wincing as he breathed in. But it wasn't . . . well, he'd smelled blood and death before but this was... "...milk," John said, looking at Sherlock. "I smell milk."

"It is milk," Sherlock said. He bent down and looked at the man's face for a few minutes and then looked at the wound. Then he looked round the area. "A milk bottle," Sherlock said.

John crouched down beside Sherlock and looked around. Something caught his eye just under the bottom shelf of a display. He reached under it and slid out a small piece of glass and a phone.

Sherlock smiled at John, but then went back to his 'I'm-on-a-case' face. He took the phone from John and glanced through the photos. "Where's the wife?"  
  
"At the station," Lestrade said.

"Is this her?" Sherlock said, showing Lestrade a somewhat compromising photo of a young woman.

Lestrade looked and then said, "No. That is definitely not her."

"There you go then," Sherlock said, hanging the phone to Lestrade and taking off his gloves. "Weapon, motive, and suspect." He turned to John and added, "Our work here is done." He smiled a little and headed off, calling "Ring me if we're wrong. But we won't be."

John got up quickly and followed him, glancing at the woman again as they ducked under the tape. "That was amazing, Sherlock. You did that in like five minutes!" 

"I don't think so, John," Sherlock said. " _You_ did it. You could be quite helpful to me, Dr Watson." He smiled and grabbed John's hand.

"Partners in crime -- well, crime solving," John grinned. "Are you looking for an assistant?"

"I've never thought about it," Sherlock said. "Are you applying for the job?"

"Perhaps,” John grinned. 

"It might be weird -- we'd be together quite a bit," Sherlock said. "That might seem attractive right now . . . but you still haven't seen me in all my unpleasant glory." 

"Stop trying to scare me off," John said. "You should know I live for danger," he nudged Sherlock and smiled. 

"I'm still trying to figure you out," Sherlock said. "You're not as easy to understand as a murder scene." He hailed a cab, "Let's go to mine for a cup of tea."

"Okay," John said, climbing into the cab after him. "Do I have to worry about being alarmed?"

"Not alarmed," Sherlock said, "just be careful and if something looks dangerous, it probably is." He squeezed John's hand.

"What do you have in your flat that would be dangerous?" John asked. 

"Normally, _I_ am the most dangerous thing in my flat," Sherlock said. When they arrived at Baker Street, he led John up to his flat. He pushed open the door, but before turning on the light, he grabbed John, turning him towards him and wrapping his arms around him as he kissed his mouth long and slow.

John hummed in surprise and kissed him back, bringing his arms up around Sherlock's neck. 

Sherlock deepened the kiss. He felt full of want. He pushed his tongue into John's mouth and ran his hands down John's back to his hips which he pulled slightly towards his own.

John moaned softly and pressed into him, heat flooding through him as their bodies pressed together. 

Sherlock stepped them back on and pulled them onto the sofa. He lay down on top of John and continued kissing him, as he rubbed his hands up and down John's sides. "I want you," he moaned softly.

John was too caught up the moment to care that they had just met, that only minutes before they were at a crime scene. "I want you, too," he murmured, arching into Sherlock's hands. 

Sherlock sat up and led John into his bedroom. He pulled John's sweater over his head and pressed him back onto his bed. He leaned over and covered his chest with soft kisses 

John's hands were moving to take Sherlock's shirt off, but he couldn't reach the buttons very well.

Sherlock moved his mouth over John's skin which was warm. He sat up and took off his own shirt, lying down on John again so their chests were against each other. He kissed John again, hungry for more.

John kissed back with equal fervor, his hands running up and down Sherlock's bare back and sides, humming at how soft and warm his skin felt under his hands.

Sherlock shifted back and started to undo John's belt and trousers. He pulled them down a bit and kissed John's belly and then started to move down towards John's cock. 

John flushed lightly and covered his face with his hand for a moment before sliding it into Sherlock's hair.

Sherlock slowly exhaled his warm breath over John's cock, before licking a stripe up it. He used one hand to tip it up and he sucked the tip into his mouth, letting his tongue cover it. He began bobbing his head, taking John in before sliding back up, humming as he did.

"Oh God," John moaned loudly, lifting his head to look down at Sherlock. He'd admired that mouth since they had met -- full lips with such a dramatic shape. He'd imagined how lovely it would be to kiss them, but this? It was almost too much. He dropped back down with a happy sigh. 

Sherlock kept working on John's cock. Last night when he was texting, he'd never thought he'd be doing this right now, but he was glad he was. John tasted of sex and, although it'd been a long time, Sherlock wanted sex. With John.

John writhed and squirmed underneath him, trying not to buck into his mouth. His free hand gripped the sheet, pulling on it and twisting the fabric. "Sherlock that's . . . so good."

Sherlock lifted his head and started stroking John with his hand. Then he let go and pulled John's trousers all the way off and then took off his own. He lay down on John and pressed their cocks together and he started to grind against him.

John pulled him down for a hard kiss, holding their foreheads together. "I want to taste you, too," he murmured, bucking shamelessly against him. 

"All right, but I don't know how long I'll last," Sherlock admitted.

John licked his lips and nodded. "That's okay," he murmured. He moved to shift their positions, settling between his legs and kissing his way down Sherlock's chest and stomach. He sat up to admire him for a moment, reluctantly keeping it short so he wouldn't make Sherlock uncomfortable again. He leaned down and kissed his lower belly, nipping at his groin before sucking his cock into his mouth.  

"God," Sherlock called out. He dropped a hand down to touch John's head softly. He lifted his hips just a bit. His whole body felt hot thanks to John's wet mouth.

John hummed around him as he bobbed up and down.

Sherlock could feel the tension growing and said, "Stop." He pulled John up and said, "Let me make love to you" and he sucked the skin on John's neck.

John huffed out a hard, shaky breath, heat flooding through him as Sherlock kissed his neck. "Yes, Sherlock, please . . ." he whispered.

Sherlock leaned over to his bedroom cabinet and grabbed a condom and some lube. He moved between John's legs and poured some lube into his hand. He rubbed between John's thighs, holding John's balls for a minute before slowly pushing a slick finger into John. He leaned over and kissed John's belly before starting to move his finger. "Just relax your body, John," he whispered. 

John was breathing heavily, writhing and arching as his finger moved into his body. He moaned to show he'd heard him, trying to calm down.

"God, you're gorgeous," Sherlock said softly against John's skin. He pushed a second finger in, stretching John a little. He was thinking about being inside John, whom he'd just met but with whom he had such a strangely strong connection.

John covered his flushed face and again pushed his hair back hard. "Sherlock . . . fuck," he moaned softly, lifting his knees back. He bit his lip and felt this made it more intense.

Sherlock moved his hand, slipped on a condom and added more lube before lining himself up. "God," he called out as he moved inside, "God, you feel so good."

John whimpered and bit his lip to stop the sounds but he couldn't control them. He gripped Sherlock's arms and moaned loudly.

Sherlock moved up -- he put a hand on either side of John's head and leaned down and kissed him. "Thank you," Sherlock said against John's mouth. He began to move slowly, sucking and kissing John's neck. "I'm so glad we met," he moaned softly, "I'm so glad."

John tilted his head back, gripping Sherlock's hair. "M'glad too," he murmured. "M'glad you gave . . . gave me another chance." He felt so full. He reached between them with his free hand and started to stroke himself, matching Sherlock's slow pace.  

Sherlock watched John. "Fuck," he said, picking up his pace a little. "Jesus, John, I want . . . " He let himself go and squeezed shut his eyes. "You're too . . . I'm going to come," he gasped, starting to thrust a little more.

John moved with him, thrusting his hips to meet him. "Come, Sherlock. Come inside me," he murmured against his ear, surprising himself with the words. He squeezed and stroked himself faster.

Sherlock felt everything in his body moving out of control and he thrust into John one last time, calling out his name and coming. He said, "God" as he watched John stroke himself, "come, John, come." 

John groaned softly and let go, calling out for Sherlock as he came all over his and Sherlock's stomachs. He arched and thrust with the waves of it, panting softly as he came down.

Sherlock dropped down against John, panting loudly. He moved a hand to John's head and held on to his hair. "That was fantastic," he said softly.

"Yes," John agreed, wrapping his arms around Sherlock as he caught his breath. "I've never felt anything so . . . intense."

"I don't know why you're so different, John Watson, but you are and it's good," Sherlock said, turning to kiss John's cheek.

John smiled softly and turned to catch his mouth in a kiss. "I don't know how to explain it . . .," he said, "I feel like I've known you forever."

Sherlock rolled over and lay next to John on the bed. "I don't want you to go," he said softly.

John turned to face him, scooting a bit closer. "I can stay the night," he murmured. "I don't work until Monday."

Sherlock turned to look at John. "Good," he said smiling. "Perhaps once you have a look around, you'll want to stay even longer. I have a second bedroom here that's not being used."

"Do you want me to take the second room?" John asked.

"I want to be around you and I want you to find a place that feels like home," Sherlock said, "if that happens to be my second room, that'd be perfect."

"But couldn't it be this room?" John asked softly, wondering if Sherlock just had a thing about sharing his bed.

Sherlock swallowed. "It could be," Sherlock said, "but I also want you to have a place that's _yours_. For when I'm unpleasant and you want to get away from me." He smiled. 

John waved his hand. "How unpleasant could you be?" he smiled.

"Perfectly unpleasant," Sherlock said. "But you should at least look at the place before saying yes or no. I didn't really give you a chance to look around when we came in." He smiled. 

John grinned. "You really didn't -- didn't even turn on the lights," he said. "Is it because I'm going to be alarmed and you wanted to get me in here first?" he teased. 

"No," Sherlock said. "It was because I was overcome. You made me insane, I think." He touched John's face.

John smiled softly and covered his hand. "I know the feeling," he murmured. He thought for a second about the strangeness of it all -- last night he was on a date with some woman and now he was considering moving into the flat of a man he had just met and shagged. Yes, it was all a little bit insane. But at the same time, John knew it was right.


End file.
